Page 39 of The Chemist

Unless you lived in that world, you didn’t understand the pain and the suffering. The feeling of powerlessness and anger. Anger that no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t seem to get it right.

Matteo had seen all that. He somehow understood all the pain and suffering and anger that he felt. He didn’t push, he didn’t force, he just made an offer, then stood there for support. It was thanks to Matteo that Diesel was finally able to get off the streets. It was because of him, he was able to get a best friend. It was because of him that he was able to get brothers and a father, and a fucked-up and badass crazy family that he wouldn’t change for the world.

All because Matteo gave him a chance.

And how are you repaying Matteo’s kindness?that pesky voice inside him asked.

He was right. Matteo was once again trying to help him, and here he was, actively trying to sabotage his own future.

Feeling all that pain and suffering and anger building up inside him, he lifted his head and locked eyes with Dr. Bloom.

“I go on my binges to lose myself and numb the pain.”

Speaking those words out loud, he felt like he was releasing an atomic bomb into the atmosphere. What would the fallout be? Would he survive? Would Matteo lock him up in a treatment facility indefinitely?

By the time he got home from his therapy session, Diesel was wiped and beat.

“Hey, buddy, welcome back,” he heard Zero say from someplace in the living room. He didn’t have the energy to spar with him. Not today. Right now, he wanted to lie down in bed and let the blankets swallow him whole.

Ignoring Zero’s greeting, he walked up the stairs and into his bedroom.

He had just toed off his shoes and flopped down on the bed when his bedroom door opened.

“Everything alright, man?”

It was Zero.

Lying on his stomach, Diesel didn’t have the strength to flip over and give him the finger.

“Yeah, man. Just wiped. Please leave.”

There was a moment of silence where Diesel wondered if Zero had actually left the room. Then he heard an exhale.

“Right, dude. I’ll be downstairs if you need anything.”

The door closed, and Diesel was finally left alone. Alone to process his thoughts and wonder how the fuck he was ever going to fix himself.

A small rap at the door had Diesel opening his eyes and raising his head. The room was dark, and he had no idea what the fuck time it was.

Groggy and disoriented, he sat up on his bed.

Light creaked in through the bedroom door as it slowly opened.

“Whatever you do, don’t scream. It’s only me. Bloke from across the hall.”

Further light filled the room as Zero pushed open the door the remainder of the way and took a step inside.

“You alive?” Zero asked, standing in the doorway like a six-foot-two menacing nightmare.

“It depends. Have you come here to murder me?” Diesel responded, sliding up so his back was pressed against the headboard.

“Not today, but if you keep stealing all the hot water, I can’t be held responsible for my actions.”

Diesel flicked on the lamp next to the bed.

Standing in the doorway, holding a tray, was the hookup who never left.

“I come bearing food.”

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